


Collection of Snippets

by sirnando



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:40:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4020115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirnando/pseuds/sirnando
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>since I haven't had time to update the other fics or one shots, and I really want to write, I've created this collection of tiny drabbles I had ideas for. This temporary, probably a short period, up until I have time to commit to my fics again</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> since I haven't had time to update the other fics or one shots, and I really want to write, I've created this collection of tiny drabbles I had ideas for. This temporary, probably a short period, up until I have time to commit to my fics again

-Crismes-

James had a nut "allergy". Allergy in parenthesis because technically he'd never placed any type of nut into his mouth so it was never proven with a rash or swelling. The thing was he just brought a bit up to his face, about three inches was when it began, and he had a sneezing fit. And who wants to go to a doctor and say they're sneezing.

Especially when you sneezed like James did. No way in hell.

His mother urged him multiple times to "check it out" just to be safe. To be sure. Because she worried because "she's mom don't be an asshole" his sister explained. But he didn't. Never would. His dad was on his side "doesn't harm his career, leave the kid alone". So he kept clear of nuts all his life. (The eating kind of course).

Then came Cristiano. Cristiano the polyglot who was inspired by language and enamored with international culture, so he settled on a Thai restaurant for their first date. People warned him, consulted him, told him that maybe he should ask his date where he fancied going but Cris laughed and shook his head. James loves everything, he claimed. Everything except peanuts though.

But Cris ordered noodles with peanut sauce, eyes rolled back into his head "this is fucking delicious James you need to try it, just need to" and James, being himself, didn't know how to refuse. He had a firm belief in not disappointing people (that's why his house was lined with random trinkets, guides to places he'd never go, statues of deities he didn't believe in because he didn't have the heart to say no to the lady smiling with an outstretched hand, old toothless man pleading him to buy something).

And this was it: Cris with an outstretched hand yet mouth full of teeth, fork at the end of his fingers and the noodles wrapped around it. James scrunched his nose up, he could already feel the sneezing rushing forward.

But he grabbed it, apprehensively moved the fork forward and waited for the sneezing to commence so at least he could avoid placing it in his mouth.

And when it started, which it did quite quickly, Cristiano jumped from his seat and to his side, moved the plate aside and cupped James' cheeks in his hands to check if he was ok. James tried reassuring him he was fine, but his body was overcome with the tiny jerks of his sneezes, the mini achoo's that escaped his lips. And when he was done, Cristiano stared into his eyes (hands still there).

"Were you- were you sneezing?" He asked, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Um I -achoo- yeah."

He didn't think the response was that hilarious, but Cristiano started full fledge laughing, one hand now squeezing James' thigh, the other one still on his cheek because he was about to-

And that's how James got kissed (made out with) on his first date, for the first time. He likes to claim that it was his good looks and humor that instigated it, but Cristiano will say no and slap James lightly on the back of his head.

He says that if he didn't know it, he could've sworn it was a puppy sneezing. And when you find someone who literally sneezed like a puppy, you can't let them go.

(James stays a little closer to nuts now).


	2. Seriker

When Iker started balding - Sergio flipped out. You'd think it was the owner of the balding head, but no. The owner's significant other. (He didn't use boyfriend, it was dumb. Sergio wasn't a friend, let's not fool ourselves).

Some people thought this concern stemmed from embarrassment- Sergio took such good care of his hair and now someone he associated himself with was going bald? Gross.

And it did have something to do with Sergio's fine hair skills, but it was never linked with embarrassment. If anything guilt because all these years and he'd allowed it to lead to ba- this. How could he? When did he? How would he?

He panicked the first time Iker said "I'm balding." And nonchalantly at that. Nonchalantly? How could someone be calm about losing hair? So Sergio had pulled him down into a chair, started frantically inspecting the little oval on the top of his head where the hair was scarce enough to see skin.

"You think glue is safe to use on skin?" Iker grabbed his wrist and pulled him away. No way was hot glue going to make any type of contact with his skin, no matter how desperate Sergio became for the salvation of his hair. What he didn't know was that hot glue hadn't even crossed Sergio's mind: he was thinking Elmer's.

It grew to the point where Sergio would save the little hairs left over on Iker's brush just in case they would be helpful. He bought root enhancers and those kits where all your hair was supposed to grow back and even these weird caps with hair on them which they never had Iker's true hair color (medium ash brown according to this chart he consulted) but he did what he could. Even recommended dying the visible skin so it wouldn't be so noticeable.

Until he crossed the line and asked Iker if he wouldn't mind having some of his own hair on his head. "You're not serious?" "This is totally serious matter Iker. I'm not kidding around." "I'm not going to have a hair transplant, leave it to the people who really need it. Or write down numbers for the future for both of us when we become completely bald."

Sergio's eyes widened. "Bald? Me?"

"It'll happen."

And Sergio's attention shifted. "Am I more of a French Roast or Havana Brown?!" He'd yell from the living room, and just to screw with him (out of love) Iker would say it changed based off how the light landed.

-how to have the light not affect your hair color-

It was fine, at least he was occupied.


	3. Seriker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> preslash kids

In no way, shape or form did Sergio Ramos ever dress to impress anyone. The words rhymed and he liked rhyming, but that didn't mean he did it. No way. He always dressed to impress himself and depress others, if he was quite honest.

The only thing was that in his head the stem of the depression was because people idolized his wardrobe and wanted to mimic his style in any way possible.

But in reality they became depressed because - shit, not that pink frilly shirt again. Or - damn that scarf is the color of shit why would he.... Or even better - what the f- are those rubber duckies?

It was a range - an extremely wide range - when it came to Sergio. But he was never embarrassed or shy, never questioned his choices. His friends did of course, often. Always asked him if he was "extra sure you really want those alligator skin shoes. They're dyed purple?" But in Sergio's opinion: if they're dyed purple: even better! Because who wants plain boring swampy green shoes?

The moral of the story was: Sergio loved his closet. Loved his choices. Didn't care that people always eyed him oddly from the side, made side comments, pleaded him to stop. He did it all for his own pleasure.

Though that one Iker guy always looked and smiled so that was somewhat of an encouragement.


End file.
